Guitar Strings
by HybridWrites
Summary: When they died they didn't really expect anything, in fact they expected sleep, rest and nothingness. Instead what they got was music, family, and trauma. A lot of trauma. But now, when a chance is offered, they grab it with two hands and set off to fix things. Even if they don't really have hands anymore, they're going to right the wrong that was done.


**Title:** Guitar Strings

 **Rating:** PG-13

 **Tags:** Alternate Universe, Self Indulgent, OC-Insert, Guitar Spirit, Reincarnation, Trauma, PTSD, Culture Shock, Symbolism, Curses, Tropes, Alebrije Guitar Theory, Chimeric Manifestation, Book of Life References, Mythology, Dante's a Good Boy, Hector's a Good Boy, Miguel's... mostly a Good Boy, Agender Character, LGBT+, Autism, Murder, Skeletons, Unreliable Narrator, Guitar Narrator

 **Summary:** When they died they didn't really expect anything, in fact they expected sleep, rest and nothingness. Instead what they got was music, family, and trauma. A lot of trauma. But now, when a chance is offered, they grab it with two hands and set off to fix things. Even if they don't really have hands anymore, they're going to right the wrong that was done.

* * *

When they die it's unexpected. A moment that they don't quite catch. A blink, due to a sudden sharp pain and they're gone. They don't expect much really, after all, death is merely like falling asleep. So they expect nothing, nothing but darkness and a lack of any awareness of anything. Nothing, like the state of sleeping, no thoughts, no feelings, nothing.

Instead they find themself floating.

Where, they haven't got a clue, they're just kind of floating. It's dark and they have no real understanding of where they really are. It's not sleeping though, although it is distantly familiar. Light and easy, and they find that it doesn't scare them. The darkness that they float in. Time has no meaning, and they just float.

Slowly their life drifts across their mind. From their earliest memories, of family, of friends. Incidents that they would rather forget than remember, laughter and joy. School. Growing up, learning to swim, to ride a bike. Play music on the recorder and then later a saxophone. Language lessons. Writing, dreaming, dancing, acting. Performing.

Music.

It's a constant theme through the memories and images that wind through their memories.

Singing out with others, humming under their breath, imagining a background tune to their actions throughout the day. It's something odd, something that they can't quite place, but it's right at the same time. And as they remember the music things shift, they change.

They begin to see a light. A glow, and a pull. Something is changing.

Someone else is near. A small rhythm repeats, and they find themself humming along in the dark to the sound. Humming until the sound is gone and they're alone... Alone except that they're not, there are others. They can't quite see them, but they can feel them, and in the darkness they reach out to the others, trying to understand.

There is something blocking their hands. Stopping them in the darkness. Keeping them from really reaching out.

But... they can hear voices. Until they drop off, and a tiredness seeps into them. Leaving them dropping back, and they shut down...

* * *

They come back to in the darkness slightly more aware. They still can't really tell what's going on around them, not truly but now they can get a bit more of a feel for things. There's joy and laughter, some kind of celebration going on. They scramble slightly in the darkness, reaching desperately with their hands to try and pull back at the curtains to see.

Again there is a wall.

Something that is stopping them. And frustrated they let out a small grumble.

Huffing in the darkness they cross their spectral arms before jolting. There's a shift, a change, and they lift their head up as the darkness gives way to something for a moment. There's a colour a flash a flare, maroon, with a slight blush pink, and purple. The colour wraps around them and they let out a small appreciative sound reaching out into them with a grin.

It's a welcome change, something that they enjoy.

Even more distantly though, they can hear a voice. Somewhat low, gentle and nice, kind of rolling really. It's a nice voice, they decide very quickly that they like it. The grin gets slightly bigger as the colour spreads. Lighting up the darkness and bringing a new kind of light to this place, and with the distant voice as a backdrop.

They settle down.

It feels more welcome now, a bit fuller. And, they stretch themself out again, reaching up into the colours and loving the feeling of them sweeping over them. Curling around them and it's like coming home. Catching the bus and returning to the warmth and familiarity of home.

And the voice is there to.

A backdrop of comfort that lets them drift off once more.

* * *

It grows.

It changes. More colours, more voices and eventually they are seeing more of the world beyond their now somewhat psychedelic realm. They can actually see the world, and manifest... sort of. They're a guitar, or at the very least they're attached to the guitar. Although they don't feel very human anymore.

Their thoughts not quite right.

They're good though. And the music that is made with their help is just, magical.

Their musician plays for his family. With such care and longing and it's all that they can do to help. An unseen presence in the room. Bright colours and patterns on their body. Somewhat canine, still anthropomorphic, hands, a fluffy tail, wings. They're not quite right though, since their feet are a bit award really, not quite fitting, thinner, more slender. They don't care though.

They fit with their odd musician. With the family that they're creating here.

This new life they have been given.

Happiness and relief, and all the colours.

 _Remember Me... Though I have to say goodbye_

It's a soft tune, a nice tune. And conjures up images of security and safety. Of a secret moment shared just with the three of them. Their musician and his daughter.

 _Remember Me. Don't let it make you cry_

They pull up that thought as they settle beside their 'body' humming slightly. Recalling the father-daughter duet that they assist with. Since that's their job, they are a companion. Unseen, unheard but still felt. Maybe one day they'll be strong enough to actually manifest as something, a child perhaps.

A mirage of their previous existence but until then...

 _For even if we're far apart, I hold you in my heart_

 _And sing a secret song to you, each night we are apart..._

But right now they're not too worried about that. Things will happen as they happen. And they're sticking by their musician's side as his loyal instrument. Bringing an extra harmony to his music that's so subtle. Because he cares for them, he's cared enough for the guitar to personify it.

Enough that it brought them to the surface really.

And they watch unseen as the family grows. As he pours more and more love on them, those around him. And they watch as something threads in, a twist of darkness that's returning.

 _Remember Me, though I have to travel far._

They have to leave, even if it's an unhappy send off. A disagreement on where their priorities should be. But they know, it's not enough here. Food is hard to get, money is hard to get, and they're not getting much. Not getting enough.

Travelling will give them options.

Opportunity.

 _Remember Me. Each time you hear a Sad Guitar..._

So they go, and never get to return home again. Not for a long time, and they don't even understand why. All they know is that something hurt, and there was an echo of the pain their musician felt.

They just wanted to go home.

 _Know that I'm with you the only way that I can be._

 _Until you're in my arms again..._

They're forced back into the darkness again. Letting out a soundless scream as it creeps over them. They can't find the colours, they can't feel the connection. Where's their musician? What's going on? They struggle blindly in the dark, pressing against the invisible walls and sensing something wrong, wrong, it's not right.

They let out a small whine, before curling up in the darkness and shaking.

This is wrong.

Something is wrong, wrong, wrong.

Death hangs in the air...

 _Remember, Me!_

* * *

They drop a bell on the problem. In a moment of lucidity... it's all that they can do. And it brings them so, so close.

Yet so, so far.


End file.
